I turn to face him and my face plops into his chest, he’s stepped so close to me. “Hey,” I murmur, my voice muffled by his taut chest. My body doesn’t allow me to separate from him, enjoying the sound of his heart close to my ear. Inhaling the fortitude I’ll need, I step back and gaze into his gorgeous eyes. His beauty comes close to overwhelming me.
“Miss me?” He smirks, but I can’t deny the truth.
“Yes.” I take my bottom lip, worrying it with my teeth and release the breath I’ve been holding. “We can’t. I asked you here at first to say to hell with all the shit I’m spouting that keeps us apart, wanting to figure a way to make this work. I can’t.” My eyes fill with water and my nose burns— but I continue. “I spent the day with Deacon and Julie. His life is fixing to implode . . . Adriane is leaving. She hasn’t told him yet, but the writing’s on the wall. In a few months, we’ll be at college and he needs his friends to rally and support. I don’t know shit about relationships . . . but they take more work and time than I have to offer right now.”
“No.” His tone is lethal but he doesn’t make me afraid. “I’m here with you Avery and can be your rock when you need it. Why do you get to make all the decisions when they affect both of us?”
I shrug. “Without me, there isn’t an us.”
“Bullshit. If there is a me, there is a you. I’m not letting you go.”
“I’m not willing to tell them. I won’t do it. Are you willing to continue hiding in the dark, me refusing to put us in the spotlight? Knowing you can’t touch me when you want? Can’t hold my hand in public? That isn’t you . . . I’ve watched you for years with other girls. You claim. You conquer. And I’m not in the position to be claimed or conquered at this moment.” But, God, how I want to be— by him.
Mark me.
Own me.
Possess me.
“Whatever it takes. It won’t always be like this. Life will slow down. Be prepared for that day . . . when it does, I’ll tell everyone you’re mine.” I don’t hesitate, yet I should. I jump in his arms, snake my legs around his waist and kiss him with all I have.
So it begins. My surreptitious relationship. My torrid affair. Hiding the truth from those closest to me. I wagered with myself, soothing my guilt with promises it won’t be forever. They’d understand. All of them aren’t unreasonable . . . all of the time.
Spearheading this project greets me with humor, loyalty, attitude, but our friendship shines bright. “I’m in, Aves. What do you need me to do?” Mason is agreeable because regardless of me suggesting we skip our actual prom and recreate one that Deacon is willing to attend doesn’t ruin his end of night plans . . . between a girl’s legs. And Lee Lee’s are accessible.
“Thanks, Mace.” I give him a quick hug amid Emberlee’s groans— that girl likes to dress up. Caden’s growl, Deacon’s smile . . . Adriane isn’t here nor is she part of our prom— shocking I know. “I’ve talked to the parental units and they all have their assignments. Now,” I clap my hands. “A theme.” Everyone, but me, groans.
I giggle.
“No outsiders. Julie will be there.” Deacon scrubs his neck. Having gone from social guy to single dad . . . it’s been an adjustment. A part he’s soaring in, but it has challenges.
“No duh.” I stick out my tongue and cross my eyes at him, emitting a laugh from his chest. This life-changing event may have happened to him, but it’s affected all of us. Our dynamic has changed . . . our friendship hasn’t been hindered, but the way we do things . . . interact is a new realm. I love Deacon, but I get antsy leaving Julie after a visit. Caden and Mason are worse— I’m not sure who is more baby-whipped. Mace is over the top in his adoration of Julie, while Caden is the silent warrior, tracking her movements, her noises, and everyone— including his best friends— when they’re within five feet of Julie. Lee Lee spoils her— new outfits, hair accessories, burp rags— all over the top and adorable. That’s her way— she isn’t good with emotional showings, she hasn’t been taught, but she does this her own way and we all know where her heart is.
“Julie’s my date.” Mason calls dibs . . . on an infant who is three weeks old. Truth is— I love seeing these three guys fumble over their feet to cater to her every whim. She doesn’t have demands now, but the day is gonna come and boy . . . is it gonna be a sight. It doesn’t shock me, they’ve been that way with me, Emberlee, and even Adriane at one point. I’ve never doubted my worth, their loyalty, or our friendship— not one day.
We chortle at Mason’s eagerness but Deacon allows it. “Aves, will you do me the honor?” He takes it up a notch, gallant like, and bows in front me.
“Of course.” I allow him to place a kiss on my hand.
“That leaves me and Gentle Giant.” Caden rolls his eyes at Emberlee’s teasing but mimics Deacon’s flair for dramatics.
“My lady,” he bows.
“I’m not often accused of that.” Lee Lee makes us chuckle. No doubt . . . crazy girl.
“I gotta go. Jackets to deliver and I need to find the lost. I’ll send y’all the details.” I give quick hugs and stare at the angel in her bassinet as I haul ass. Half way through my drive an epiphany hits— the perfect theme. My fingers itch to get home and start creating the sets I’ll need to paint and use to create the ambience. Thank goodness for Mrs. Douglas and her connections . . . I don’t care how massive our houses are, my ideas won’t fit into any of our living rooms. It may be five plus a baby, but this is our senior prom and Julie’s first one. It’s going to be spectacular.
Ruthian: I hate I can’t take you to your prom.
Me: You know the reasons.
Ruthian: I’m being selfish. I want your last prom to be special and to hold you in my arms.
Me: I want you to hold me in your arms.
Ruthian: Aves . . .
Me: I’m not being fair but soon we should have more freedom. I’ll be a college girl.
Ruthian: MY college girl.
Me: As long as you want me.
Ruthian: It isn’t me stalling.
I don’t respond. Sometimes patience is his best quality . . . some days it isn’t his virtue. Guess I know what day it is . . .
Ruthian: Sorry. I just miss you.
Me: You free tonight?
Ruthian: For you? Always.
Me: I’ll leave my door open.
Thank goodness my balcony door is on the first floor that leads to the side yard. And my parents trust me is a huge plus.
Ruthian: Nothing could keep me away. I’ll never be able to study for this exam.
Me: I’ll quiz you tonight, Brainiac. Positive reward system will be implemented.
Ruthian: wiggles eyebrows.
Me: If it’s as good as when your tongue wiggles, I’m a happy girl.
Ruthian: Rock. Hard.
Me: See ya Casanova.
I smile the entire time I deliver jackets to the shelters. I grin so much my cheeks hurt as I search for lost mittens, backpacks, stuffed animals . . . I debate searching for the live animals but I have a hard time letting them go. I found a puppy, aging dog, cat . . . an iguana once, and I cry while I give them back to their owners.
I speed through ordering our attire for prom and lose myself as I paint the perfect backdrops for prom— making it magical for all involved. Shit . . . I’m covered in paint— a norm for me but I’d like to look appealing for my company. Bypassing the den, I notice my mom is awake. “Hey, can’t sleep?” It’s close to ten and she’s usually in bed reading by this time.
“I was watching you create those masterpieces and started reminiscing. I can’t believe my baby girl is growing up.” She wipes a stray tear as she peruses the book resting in her lap.
I meander in the room and see it’s my baby book. “Mom. I’m not running off to a cult. I’m going to be an entire car ride away. Shocking. Scandalous.”
She giggles. “Smart ass.”
“Abigail Michaels. Don’t make me wash your mouth out with soap, young lady.” I admonish whil
e teasing. I remember this exact scenario— reversed— eleven years ago.
“I’m so proud of you, Avery.” Ah, nostalgia is hitting. I lower myself to the floor, unsure if I have paint on my ass, so I won’t be taking chances with the furniture. I’ve scraped paint off the hard floors so many times I’m an expert.
“For what, Mom? You and dad have supported me, nurtured me, let me follow my dreams. I’ve had a stable home and every opportunity at my fingertips. If I failed with so much guiding me . . . it’d be embarrassing and entirely my fault. You should be proud of you. I’ve had a great role model.” Her hands go to my hair, working my tangles and getting my curls in order.
“That. Everything you do. We’re the lucky ones. Your dad and I . . .” She doesn’t finish as the front door shuts.
“There’s my AA. What are you girls doing up?” He drops his briefcase and makes a beeline to my mom for his ‘sugar’ as he calls it. I roll my eyes at his AA comment— it stands for Abigail and Avery— but he jokes that we drive him to drink.
“Out seducing your mistress?” I tease. It isn’t often he works late and it became a joke my mom and I kept up. She’s secure in her relationship, I’m positive in it and my dad is head over heels for both of us.
“Tough job, but someone has to do it.” He tugs my hair and kisses my head. “Big case in the morning. Going over my opening statement.” Brian Michaels, Esquire— corporate attorney— and the best shark I know.
“Ambulance chasing getting tough?” I giggle as he pinches my arm.
“Abbs . . . did you call the lab for the DNA results? I’m sure this child isn’t mine with her smart mouth and endless wit.” He deadpans with a smirk.
“Give it up, look in the mirror. No way you can deny me. If you want, I’ll call your doctor— I hear dementia can set in rather quick, old man.” He winks and shakes his head.
“She’s yours.” My mom reminds him. I’m cut straight from that cloth. The old saying ‘the apple didn’t fall from the tree’ . . . I think I’m still attached to their limbs.
“And I’m glad.” He stands. “Heading for a shower and bed. Dinner tomorrow night with my girls?”
“For sure.” I beam. I reach for his hand so he can pull me up . . . which he does catapulting me into his arms. “Love you, daddy.” I can see the lines surrounding his eyes . . . knowing it’s from the smile he’s wearing. ‘Daddy’ does it every time.
“Love you, too, Avery.” Seems the sentimental gene is in full force if I’m guessing by his sniffles. My mom watches him release me and leave the room.
“Avery?” She pats the couch. I glance at the floor and see no paint so I sit. “Are you happy?”
I make a duck face. “Yes. What’s going on?” I fight the panic threatening to overtake me.
“Us girls had lunch today.” I roll my eyes. “So much has happened in the last year and we all feel like things keep changing . . . full steam ahead.”
“Isn’t that normal?” I question her and see her nod. “Mom, besides Adriane, we’re all doing what we’re supposed to do.”
“Deacon? That boy isn’t supposed to be a dad at eighteen and a senior in high school.” She says with no malice, just disappointment that I can understand from a parent’s standpoint.
“But the fact he’s an amazing dad, despite the circumstances, speaks volumes to the role models we had. It could be worse.” I remind her.
“I know. I’m so damn proud of him. I can’t even wish the boy knew how to put on a condom because Julie is precious. Sara is in love with that little girl.” Her eyes are soft as she speaks of Julie.
“One, let us never discuss Deacon and his knowledge of putting on a condom— again.” I shudder.
She tries to hide her smile. “What about you? Do you know how to put on a condom?” She. Did. Not.
“Ummmm . . . I have the wrong appendage.” I’m wondering about the sanity of both my parents.
“Avery, you’re being obtuse. You know what I mean.” She smacks my leg.
“I’m not having sex. See how much easier directness is.” I snap my fingers.
“That’s the thing. I don’t want you to, but you’re a senior in high school— you don’t date, you’re so immersed in painting and your friends. I wonder if you’re missing anything.” She shuts my baby book— we don’t want to taint the innocent photographs with her pornographic mouth.
“Mom. We’re all different. I can’t say I’ve never wondered stuff, but I’m not clueless in regards to sex. The boys— they’re well versed. We know Adriane is and I’m sure you know Lee Lee is, as well. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything. When the time is right, I’ll know it.” I quirk my head and study her. “Are you okay with time moving forward?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice is clogged with emotion. “Bethy said Caden is moody, and I don’t see that with you. Sara is dealing with the Deacon and Julie stuff. Sophie is in denial with Adriane. Natalie swears Emberlee is depressed. Michelle says Mason is fine. I like to think you’re fine . . . but you’re so normal.”
“And?” I don’t see the problem.
“You’re a teenager. I’m supposed to have the angst. The moodiness. The defiance. Give me something here.” She snorts, as she doubts herself.
“I can’t give you what isn’t there, Mom. I promise I’m fine. Buy me a pony?” I throw at her.
“You’re eighteen years old. Too big for a pony.” I begin to fake cry, giving the performance of my life.
“You’re so mean. You’re ruining my life. I can’t wait to have a kid so I can give her a pony.” I storm from the room fighting my laughter taking over. Counting to fifteen I peek around the corner. “Feel better? That drama should hold you over.” I wink. “Going to bed.” I blow her a kiss.
“You’re your father’s child.” I’ve heard that line all too often. “And thank you. Love you.”
“Love you,” I holler as I reach my room. Chuckling at our antics, I gasp when I see him lying in the middle of my bed. “What are you doing here?” I whisper yell.
He crooks his finger and I rush to him. “I texted you.” He holds up my phone. “God, you’re beautiful.” His quick inhale of breath forces me to remember I’m covered in paint . . . dried and smeared. I wanted to shower before he got here. “And why am I Ruthian in your phone?”
“Sneak.” I snicker. “It means great power in baseball lingo . . . and you have that over me. All the power.” I brush my lips over his, suffocating the groan escaping from his chest. “Shhh. My parents are still awake.” I giggle into his mouth. Pulling back, I’m mesmerized by the perfection staring back at me. “I’m gonna shower. Study and I’ll quiz you.” Snagging one last chaste kiss I back from him, refusing to break eye contact.
After a quick shower, most of it spent peeling paint off my body and hair, I emerge to him sprawled on my bed. I suppress a sigh . . . this sculpted Adonis seems to overtake my queen bed, covered in a lilac comforter, and looks like he belongs. I don’t want him anywhere else. He snaps his head from his book and the golden color of his eyes darken, as his pupils grow wide. “Fuck, Aves.” His eyes skim my body and I follow.
“What?” I’m dressed in my normal tank top and shorts . . . fully covered.
“Come here.” His voice is so low it vibrates through my body. I speed walk, okay run, and join him, covering his body with mine.
“Yes?” I wink with a saucy attitude.
No words.
Lots of lip.
Tons of tongue.
Heaps of heat.
“Better.” He murmurs as his mouth trails down my neck.
“Perfect.” I tilt my head back giving him better access. I’m lightheaded, buoyant— all consumed by him. Snapping to my senses, I roll off him. “Study time.”
He pouts— full lips protruding, puppy dog, pleading eyes. I’m close to succumbing but he needs to study more than I need a tussle in my bed with him.
And I’m scared.
Terrified I’m not experienced enough
to keep his attention.
Fearful he’ll realize the hassle and hoops he’s jumping through for me aren't worth it. He can and has had his fair share of girls . . . rumors circulate and I’ve witnessed it. “Nope.” I’m firm. “You’ve got a test.”
“Damn. Bossy much?” I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. Pot. Meet Kettle. They’re kindred fucking spirits.
“Wanna set up a reward system?” I smile.
“Sure. Each correct answer I get to pick a treat.”
“Not from my body.” I raise my eyebrows. He grips his chest, over his heart, like my words wound him.
“No faith, Picasso.”
“Have some, buster.” I wink. I pull a box from under my bed and open it . . . watching the grin overtake his face is enough.
“You didn’t?” He’s in awe.
“Seems I did. It isn’t a figment of your imagination.” I push the box closer. “One now and one for each correct answer.”
“I think I love you.” His hand reaches in and grabs a red one. Fucking gummy bears. This big, brute, handsome guy is brought to his knees by gummy fucking bears.
“I think you love my . . . goodies.” I giggle and he shakes his head at my innuendo.
“Every last drop of your . . . candy.” He gives as good as I do. I’d say it was perfection. Fate. Kismet. Meant to be.
Except the lie I’m forcing myself to keep.
The lie of us.
And it feels like shit.
Chapter Five
The parents took over the responsibility of transforming the banquet hall for our ‘prom.’ Lee Lee and I were sent to the salon to be pampered. I’ve kept everything from them and once they see their attire, they’ll be stumped until they see the room. I’m prepared to play it off like I did it for Julie . . . but I’m living my fantasy through her.
Fighting Fate (Endgame #4) Page 4
